Harry Potter and the Knife of Hephaestus

"Dear Miss Slayt," the letter began.

"We recently received word that you had returned to the country, after an extended vacation. Due to the lack of a new teacher for the subject Defense Against the Dark Arts, I have decided to extend the hand of friendship, and ask you to take the position. Please send your reply within the next few days.

Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"

September 1st, 1995

**********

Harry Potter felt uneasy. This in itself was nothing new; he had been through enough that any normal person would be a younger version of Mad-Eye Moody. The reason, however, was strange. He was uneasy because nothing had happened.

"That's how you know you're going crazy," he mumbled to himself, pushing his trunk across the platform, crowded with new students. "It's when you're scared because life is normal."

"Really?" asked a voice from behind him. "I always thought it was when you started talking to yourself." Harry turned around, and came face to face with Ron Weasley, leaning against his trunk, one bright red eyebrow raised. "Harry! Good to see you again! Why didn't you answer my last letter?"

Harry raised his own eyebrows. "Ron, I got it this morning. Not much point in writing back."

The redhead looked a bit embarrassed. "Oh, all right then." Looking for a change of topic, he said, "Have you seen Hermione? She didn't come to visit this summer either. Honestly, it was horrible, stuck in that house all summer with the twins. They're still cooking up new jokes, you know. And they needed a guinea pig for each."

Harry winced, with a small pang of guilt. He had been the one to give the twins the money they needed to get the joke business started, thereby sentencing his best friend to a summer of being experimented on. "What does being a giant canary feel like?"

"I wouldn't know. They're on opossums now." Ron looked around the platform absently, and his face lit up. "There's Hermione!" Harry craned his neck, trying to see over the heads of the crowd. Sure enough, a familiar, bushy brown head was making its way across the platform. "HERMIONE! OVER HERE!" Ron bellowed, making everyone within three feet cringe, and Neville Longbottom, on the other end of the platform, drop his toad. Harry tried not to laugh, as Hermione made her way over to them.

"Honestly, Ron, I was already heading towards you, there was no need to deafen everybody in the station!" she said, a bit annoyed. Harry noticed that her hair seemed to have tamed down some over the summer, and was now in pretty curls framing her face. He was also surprised to see that he was now several inches taller than Hermione, when last year he had been the shortest of the three. She apparently noticed the same thing, but was not as pleased as Harry. "So now I'm the shortest one, too?" she said, annoyed. "You had to go and grow, didn't you, Harry?"

"I could hardly help it," he said, a bit offended.

"Oh, I know," she said offhandedly. "But it doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. How was your summer, Harry?"

"With the Dursleys?" he asked. "Bad, as usual."

She turned to Ron. "I'm glad to see you're not stuck as a giant opossum," she said teasingly.

He grimaced. "Scariest moment of my life. Now Fred and George are making sure they have an emergency antidote before they test anything. Mum was really mad over that." Just as Ron finished his sentence, the train's whistle sounded.

Mrs. Weasley bustled over. "Are your trunks on the train?" she asked. Not waiting for an answer, she continued. "Good. I'm sorry you couldn't spend the summer with us, Harry, Dumbledore seemed to want you to stay with your relatives."

"That's all right, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry. "I understand."

"Good! Now you'd better all get on the train, before all the compartments get filled up!" The three made their way over to the train and, with a last wave to Mrs. Weasley, climbed aboard.

The train ride passed quickly, and before they knew it, the three Gryffindors were seated at their house table, watching the Sorting. Hermione squealed as "Madderson, Lilac!" was called. "That's my cousin!" she said breathlessly. "I didn't even know she had gotten a letter! I hope she's a Gryffindor!" Sure enough, after a moment, the hat loudly pronounced the relieved Lilac a Gryffindor, and the girl went to sit with her ecstatic cousin at the Gryffindor table.

"Lilac!" Hermione cried happily, hugging the petite girl tightly. "Why didn't you tell me you had gotten a Hogwarts letter?"

Lilac squeezed back just as tightly. "I didn't know you went here, Hermione! Oh, I'm so glad, I was so scared I would be alone, and wouldn't have any friends, and wouldn't get good grades---" Ron smirked. Obviously, Hermione's concern with her grades was not unusual in her family. "But now you can help me, right?"

"Of course, Lilac!" Hermione said, beaming. "Well, the teachers are mostly nice, but---" Harry tuned out the rest of their conversation, turning away just in time to see "Young, Joseph!" become the latest Ravenclaw.

As McGonagall carried the hat out of the great hall, Dumbledore stood up, and began to speak. "Welcome, all, to another year!" He smiled benevolently around at all the students, his eyes lingering almost imperceptibly on Harry. "Once again, we have a new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm sorry to say Professor Moody decided not to teach this year, and instead, headed back to retirement." Harry could understand only too clearly the reasoning behind this, but the majority of the students looked a bit confused. Most had not known that their teacher the previous year was actually a Death Eater in disguise. "This year we have joining us Professor Damia Slayt. Professor Slayt, will you please stand?"

At the staff table, a young woman rose to her feet. She was of average height, and while most of the teachers chose to wear dark colors, Professor Slayt was clothed in a cloak of forest green. The hood was up, shadowing her face. As the students watched, she pushed back her hood, and stared out at them all.

She was beautiful. Her hair was raven black, falling silkily down her back. Her eyes, a brilliant green, were set against skin so pale it was a wonder she was alive. She looked fragile, and delicate, like she might break if she was pushed too hard. But she spoke in a loud, clear voice before sitting back down. "I have decided, at the Headmaster's request, to come here and teach for one year. I hope we will all enjoy my time here." She looked very much like she hoped nothing of the sort. At the other end of the table, Snape smirked.

Dumbledore smiled out at them all as Professor Slayt sat down again. "Well then! Eat!" The food appeared on the tables, and all dug in. At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione spoke quietly among themselves. Lilac chatted with a few second years, who looked eager for the chance to impart their wisdom on someone younger than themselves.

"I don't know about her," Hermione said, with her eyes narrowed. "Did you see the way Snape smirked when she spoke? I think they're friends."

"Snape has friends?" Ron said, his mouth hanging open.

Hermione replied, "I wouldn't have thought it either, and close your mouth, Ron, nobody wants to see your chewed-up potatoes."

Ron turned red and continued chewing his food, as Harry spoke. "I don't know, Hermione. I don't think Dumbledore would hire her if she wasn't on the level. And he trusts Snape."

"I didn't say she was a Death Eater, I just said I didn't know if she looked like a good teacher!" Hermione said exasperatedly.

"She's pretty," Ron said, swallowing his potatoes and looking at the new teacher with interest.

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione said, turning red. "That's all that matters in a teacher?"

Harry saw a fight brewing, and tried to stop it before it could start. "Hermione, he was just commenting. Let's finish eating, I'm starved. Dudley was still on his diet," he explained, grabbing a forkful of carrots. Reluctantly, the two turned back to their food, Hermione with a loud sniff.

Only twenty minutes later, the majority of students in the hall were leaning back against their chairs, many with a look of deep satisfaction on their faces. At a nod from Dumbledore, the prefects rose.

"First year Gryffindors!" Hermione called out loudly. "Follow me if you want to find the common room!" With a squeak, Lilac jumped up and fumbled her way through the forest of stretched out legs to Hermione's side. The other first years were not far away. "All right then, come on!" Hermione swept away, followed closely by the mass of first years. Harry and Ron followed at a distance.

Once in the common room, Hermione turned to her friends, who had somehow become mingled in with the new students, and stood sleepily like two very large eleven year olds. "You two go to bed now," she told them.

"Who are you, our mother?" Ron asked halfheartedly, but they both went. Harry, just before he fell asleep, had time for one last thought: hopefully, this year would be peaceful. But it wasn't likely.

Potions was their first class the next morning. "It's not enough that we have to take classes with the overgrown bat," Ron grumbled as they made their way down to the dungeons. "But we have to take them this early in the morning, too?"

"We know what you mean, Ron," Hermione said, as they dashed into the Potions dungeon. Harry knew it was no use; they were at least ten minutes late. He closed his eyes and waited for the number of points.

"Potter, Granger, Weasley, sit down," Snape snarled. "Tardiness is bad enough, don't waste what time you do decide to spend in my class." The three looked at each other in awe: had Snape really just passed up a chance to lose Gryffindor points? They weren't about to argue, though, and quickly sat down. "Today," Snape continued, "We will be making a cheerfulness potion."

And that's how it was throughout the entire class. Much to the Gryffindor's joy and the Slytherin's anger, and everyone's bewilderment, Snape was almost civil throughout the entire lesson. At the end of the class, both Gryffindor and Slytherin had the exact same number of points they had started out with.

"That was... not right..." Ron said, dazed, as they left the Potions room.

"Something was definitely wrong there," Harry agreed as he pulled out his schedule. "What do we have now?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione answered, pulling out her own schedule and checking it. "I can't wait to see how Professor Slayt is! You realize she's our first female Defense teacher?"

"No, we hadn't," Ron muttered. "Ow! Hermione, let go of me, I'm coming! OW!" She kept her firm grip on his wrist, pulling him down the hall until he wrenched his arm out of her grasp. "Hey, I need that limb, y'know." Hermione made a noise of impatience and wached Harry run to catch up with them, stuffing his fallen schedule back in his bag.

"What do you think we'll study this year?" Hermione asked Harry and Ron.

"Hopefully, how to deal with overexcited girls," Ron muttered, rubbing his wrist. If Hermione heard him, she ignored him.

"I'm hoping we learn the kind of defense that we'd use against Death Eaters," Harry said as they rounded the corner into the Defense hallway. Hermione nodded eagerly.

Professor Slayt was waiting for them when they entered the classroom. As the Gryffindors settled themselves down, her eyes moved over the class, taking them in one by one and memorizing them.

"I am Professor Damia Slayt," she told them, speaking quietly. She didn't need to raise her voice. Every student in the class was hanging onto her words. "I have never taught before, and frankly, I never had any intention of doing so." She stood up from behind her desk, and moved around to stand in front of it, the skirts of her forest-green robes swishing about her ankles. "I have been told that students enjoy knowing about their teachers, and having their teachers know about them. So today will be a question-and-answer day. Unless you have no questions. Then we will begin work." All except Hermione looked horrified at the idea of getting work on the first day. "Questions?"

The Gryffindors looked at each other, each hoping someone else had a question to ask Professor Slayt. Finally, Seamus Finnigan tentatively raised his hand. Slayt swooped down on him in an instant. "Finnigan?"

Seamus looked terrified of their new teacher. It wasn't hard, she possessed an aura of intense power and restrained anger, hidden behind a calm mask, waiting to be unleashed at a single unfortunate individual. "Erm- how old are you, Professor?"

Professor Slayt looked at him, her face bland. "That's a rude question to ask an adult woman, Finnigan," she said. Seamus went red. "I am thirty-five. I was in the same year at school with Severus Snape, your Potions Master." A few murmurs went around the room at this. Not only did Slayt look like she was only in her mid-twenties, Snape looked as though he was at least forty-five. "Any more?"

Ron raised his hand. "What house were you in at school?"

Slayt raised an eyebrow, the only movement on her perfectly still face. "I was in Slytherin, but I had a fair few Gryffindor associates." Again, the students murmured. What was Dumbledore thinking, having a former Slytherin teach Defense Against the Dark Arts? Most of them were already taking bets on when Professor Slayt would attack Harry, but this was a bit much. Slayt, however, easily got the jist of what was circling the room.

"There are several things I will not tolerate in my classroom," she interrupted the gossip. "Or in any room I occupy. One is profanity. It is beneath you, and it is beneath me. I will not hear it. Tardiness is the next. If you are ten minutes or less late, you lose three points for each minute you are late. More than that, and you get a detention for each additional minute." Again, murmurs. Professor Slayt was strict. "A third is prejudice. Birth, color, house- anything. If I hear one comment of this sort- one- you will be on your way to the Headmaster's office, no questions asked. And there will be an apology made to the offended person before one toe is set through that door again."

Neville raised his hand slowly, looking scared to death. "P-professor," he said, shaking slightly, but looking like he felt he had to ask. "Are you one of the Slayt Slayts? The pureblood Slayts?"

Professor Slayt barely glanced at Neville. "Yes, my family is a very old pureblood family. We, however, do not hate Muggles or Muggle-borns, like some pureblood families. No Muggle-born student need worry about unfairness from me."

She looked around at the rest of the class. "Some of you may believe you have heard of rumors about the Slayt family. Whatever you have heard, it does not apply to me, and I'll not have it brought up. The past, in my opinion, is best forgotten. And that is the end of the story." The bell rang, and the Gryffindors all snatched up their bags. "Tomorrow, we begin work," Slayt called, as the students filed out the door. "Potter, wait a moment."

Harry threw a glance back at Ron and Hermione, who looked sympathy at him. As they moved out the door with the rest of the class, Harry stepped up to Slayt's desk. "Professor?"

She looked straight at him, meeting his eyes squarely. And for the first time all lesson, Harry saw the mask slip from her pretty features as she looked into his eyes. Her eyes were only slightly darker than his own, and as Harry looked, he saw sorrow, and longing, and the look of someone who wishes for something impossible.

"Severus was right," she murmured, watching him. Harry began to squirm, unnerved by this sudden intense scrutiny. "Your eyes- I can almost-"

The mask slipped back into place very suddenly, and Professor Slayt shook her head very slightly, making her hair ripple. "You can go now, Potter," she said, her voice toneless again. Harry took a step backwards. She didn't move. Then, quickly, he spun and left. But he was aware every second he was in the room of her eyes following him.

"It was really weird," Harry said later to Ron and Hermione. "She was looking at me like she wanted something... it was kind of creepy."

Ron replied, "You know, Harry, you'd think you'd be used to it by now, three out of four of our previous Defense teachers have tried to kill you."

"No, Lockhart, only tried to Memory Charm him," Hermione said. "Only Moody--- I mean, Crouch Jr.--- and Quirrell tried to kill him."

"True. What else is there, though?"

Ron gaped. "Maybe she has a crush on you or something, Harry!"

Hermione giggled. "Ron, really. She's Snape's age! She's old enough to be his mum!"

"That doesn't mean anything," Ron said stoutly, while Hermione giggled and Harry squirmed uncomfortably. "Maybe she's a fedopile!"

"Pedophile, Ron," Hermione corrected him.

Harry asked, "What's a pedophile?"

"Child molester," Ron said.

"And I doubt that," Hermione added in. "She doesn't seem the type. But I think she is hiding something. She seems a very secretive person."

You're telling me, Harry thought, as they left the castle and walked towards Hagrid's cabin. "Do you think she's dangerous?"

"I think," Hermione said carefully, "that after last year, Dumbledore would check whoever he picked very, very carefully." But what was unspoken they all knew: even Dumbledore wasn't perfect.

Hagrid was outside in his vegetable garden when they showed up at his cabin. "Well, 'ello there!" he said brightly, straightening up and placing the hoe against the wall of the cabin. "Haven't seen yeh since las' year! How've yeh been?"

"Hungry," Ron said plaintively. Hagrid chuckled.

"Well then, I guess yeh'd better come in and 'ave a snack, eh?" Ron brightened up, and the trio followed Hagrid inside.

"Just had yer firs' lesson with Professor Slayt?" Hagrid asked as he set a plate of rock cakes in front of them. Without waiting for a response, he continued. "I saw th' schedules before Professor McGonagall handed them out. How do yeh like her?"

"She's... interesting," Harry said. Hagrid smiled.

"Always was, Damia. I remember when she was a student, 'ere. Quiet girl, but her friends were more'n loud enough fer her."

"You knew Professor Slayt?" Hermione asked, startled.

Hagrid sat down at the table. "O' course I did. Yeh didn't think yeh were th' first students I befriended, did yeh? She was one o' the sweetest girls yeh could ever meet, though she did have her vindictive streak. Didn't know her 'til her third year, an' she was pretty quiet."

"Looks like she hasn't changed much," Ron muttered, trying to find an edible part of the rock cake. After a few minutes, he gave up, throwing the cake down and looking at Hagrid. "Do you trust Professor Slayt, Hagrid?"

"Do I trust her?" Hagrid looked offended. "O' course I trust her! She wouldn' hurt a fly!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other. They had heard that before.

It was two days later that they had their next Defense class. Most of the school was talking about Professor Slayt. The Slytherins were immensely proud of her, for reasons no other house understood. The Ravenclaws, overall, liked her, the Hufflepuffs were terrified, and the Gryffindors were wary. But all agreed on one thing: scary, great, or anything: Professor Slayt was undeniably interesting.

And she seemed to have an unusual interest in Harry. Most of the school ignored this, all the previous Defense teachers had been interested in Harry, albeit mostly a somewhat morbid interest. Harry, however, was a bit unnerved. And so he headed into Defense that day with a feeling that he was heading towards his own execution.

"This year," Professor Slayt began as soon as they were all seated. "We will study, in general, two things. Self-defense against Dark Mages---" the class had been expecting this "--- and alternate dimensions." There was a bit of talk at this, and, after a moment, Dean Thomas raised his hand.

"Excuse me, Professor," he said, and Harry noticed he didn't seem a bit afraid of Slayt. "What do alternate dimensions have to do with this subject?"

Professor Slayt stood up. "I was waiting for someone to ask that question. It took my Ravenclaws ten minutes to ask that." She walked around the side of her desk and stood in front of it, facing the class. "To understand the answer, you must first know the basics of what an alternate dimension is. And please, no questions or comments until I have finished my explination." She moved to the front of the room and drew a small circle on the blackboard. Then, she took three steps backward, faced the board, and, with a flick of her wrist, tossed the piece of chalk at the board, so that it hit the center of the circle an cracked in half. She stooped down and picked up both halves of the piece of chalk.

"This chalk, when I threw it, hit the center of the circle. We all saw it, and we all know it happened. But, when the chalk hit the board, another dimension was created, another universe. One where the chalk didn't hit the circle. That dimension split off from ours at that exact moment the chalk hit the board, and it exists parallel to us, right at this moment." She placed the chalk on her desk. "Every decision you make, a dimension splits off from ours. A dimension where the opposite thing happened. Somewhere, in the mass of dimensions, there is one where the dinosaurs still exist. There is one where none of you exist, and there is one where all of you except one exist. There is one where I do not exist, and there is one where my family is entirely Muggles, and where yours---" she pointed to Hermione--- "is a pureblood family. There is one where every last one of you is a Slytherin, and I was a Gryffindor. Every possibility that could ever happen, every tiny, insignificant thing, down to whether or not a particular ant was stepped on, there is a universe where each one exists, and is a reality. Do you understand?"

A general murmur of assent was heard throughout the room. "Well, all right then," Slayt continued. "Now, imagine that a Dark Mage had a way of getting into all the other universes that exist. In these other universes, there are ways of getting enormous personal power at very little cost, there are creatures who would gladly sacrifice themselves for as little as a bar of chocolate, not to mention serve someone loyally for even less than that. Imagine all these resources at the hands of a Dark Mage." The class looked downright terrified, and reasonably so.

Professor Slayt took a step forward from where she had been leaning against her desk, and in one movement, casually shrugged off her cloak. Underneath it she was wearing a cream-colored tunic and knee length pants, the tunic tied at the waist with a green sash. Her feet were bare. "The defense tactics we will start out with this year," she said coolly, "is martial arts. Has anyone here ever studied martial arts, of any kind?" Hermione slowly raised her hand, and Slayt nodded at her. "Good. You, Miss Granger, will be my assistant, should the occasion call for it. For those of you who have no idea what martial arts are, they are a fighting technique that uses only the body, and no weapons. That is a sufficient explanation. Now," and with incredible speed, Slayt launched into a routine of kicks, punches, jumps, and blocks that left Harry's head spinning.

It really did look like something out of a movie. Slayt leapt into the air, throwing out a kick as she landed gracefully and blocked an imaginary punch. She crouched down on one foot, swinging her other leg around, knocking the feet out from under invisible opponents before leaping up again and throwing a punch in the opposite direction.

After one final flip, Slayt stopped her performance; much to the dismay of most of the class (Neville and Parvati had been a little frightened). Breathing heavily, she said, "That, in essence, is what I am going to be teaching you. You will be nowhere near that level at the end of the year, but you will have enough training. Now, homework." Lavender groaned audibly, then flushed. "Your homework for tonight," Slayt continued, unperturbed, "Is to be out on the Quidditch pitch at eight o'clock this evening. You will see the rest of your assignment then." The bell rang, and the Gryffindors grabbed for their bags and ran out the door. Professor Slayt watched them go. And as Harry ran out the door, he saw out of the corner of his eye, Professor Slayt sit down in her chair and murmur, "Class dismissed."